


Mi Padre El Zorro

by LadyLaviniya



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Caves, Dragons, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, I Made Myself Cry, Idk I tried to tag this with all the tags but there's not much, Magic, Masks, Quests, The Enchanted Forest, maybe I'll do a sequel if this gets good feedback?, this is prolly a one time thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaviniya/pseuds/LadyLaviniya
Summary: And that was how she found herself circling this insignificant, tiny village, where the people drop their glass ornaments to look up and point to her in awe, because the locator spell had worked, and she could tell she was very close to him.Her father.Now it was just a matter of picking him out of the crowd.





	Mi Padre El Zorro

_“If you really wish to find him, I suppose I cannot stop you. But promise me you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll keep your distance, unless you are certain it is truly he to whom you are speaking. Do not let anyone see you change; do not let anyone know your name. And most importantly, my child, my dearest one, you must promise you will come home to me.”_

_“I promise, Mama. I swear it. I_ will _return to you.”_

And that was how she found herself circling this insignificant, tiny village, where the people drop their glass ornaments to look up and point to her in awe, because the locator spell had worked, and she could tell she was very close to him.

Her father.

Now it was just a matter of picking him out of the crowd.

A little ways onward sat a large hacienda on the highest hill. A palace in comparison to the little houses made of stone and brick below. She inspected it. Perhaps it was his? She sniffed at the tiles on the roof in hopes of catching a scent, or to trigger the tingling sensation of the locator spell.

Were she human, her necklace would be glowing a bright purple, but since she was not, she could only chance to feel its vibrations around her neck where it might have been.

A loud cry from the village got her attention, and the sound of hooves thundering in her direction. She flew halfway to meet it at the edge where the village stopped and the hill began.

The people were excited now, crying “El Zorro! Señor Zorro!” as the mysterious rider of a black horse, whose hooves she was now hearing, cut through the crowds. He wielded a sword in one hand, a cape on his back, a hat and mask to further shield himself from being identified. She set herself on the ground, and grinned as the earth shook and groaned by her weight despite being smaller, and thus lighter, than adult dragons like her Mama.

The horse skidded to a stop a few feet before her, and the man they called Zorro leapt off, brandishing his sword boldly at her.

“You are a long way from home, o ferocious beast!” he cried, “But this is as far as you go!”

She snorted. As if she had any interest in battle.

There was something in this man’s eyes, she noticed, something which shone brightly and spoke of secrecy. There was knowledge to be gleaned from this man. The tingly sensation of her locator spell began to grow the longer she stared at him, and she grunted softly to let him know she meant no harm, and would not fight him.

She set down on her stomach, and lowered her neck to let him get a better look at her as she got of him, and he stared at her for a long while. A lull blanketed the crowd of peasants behind him as they, too, waited for El Zorro to vanquish the beast which threatened to burn their measly village to the ground for the sake of it.

At last, he lowered his sword, and nodded.

“I see,” said he, “You have no interest in harming these good people. But you have not come here without purpose, eh? And I am willing to bet that this is not your true form, eh?”

She snorted again. Of course this was her truest form! She hatched from an egg, thank you! Tis her human shape which was the lie!

Or may as well be.

He sheathed his sword, mounted his horse, and pointed towards the mountains just beyond the village to the east.

“Tell you what, o creature of legend,” said the Señor Zorro, “Tornado and I, we will race you to those mountains yonder! There is a cave we may take rest in, and we can be sure we will not be disturbed. There, you may share your good story, and I will see how I may be of service to you.”

Her ears perked up. A race? That was more to her liking. Cunning though the trickster fox may be, he is worthless when compared to the dragon!

“On your mark... Get set... Go!”

* * *

She beat him, of course. But not by much as she thought, for he came only moments after.

He dismounted his Tornado and gestured to the mouth of the cave. “Por favor, dragón. After you.”

She obliged. Stepping in first, she went on until she came to the very heart of the cave, where books, swords, and other weapons littered the center, where torches lined the walls, illuminating the cave, and allowed the steel to glisten and shine among the darkness.

The dragon who lived there, that must be their hoard. They had no gold, nor silver, nor even copper. Trophies were the only items of monetary value, and the inscriptions upon the tiny medals which sat by those trophies were too small for her to read.

At any rate, she made sure not to touch anything. It was not worth the risk getting her scent on another’s treasure, even if she did not think of those as such. Her eyes fell upon El Zorro, who was watching her in turn from the entrance of the little chamber. He set down his sword upon the floor and dusted his gloved hands.

“Will you do me the honor now,” he said with a courteous bow, “and show me who you really are?”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

She unfolded her wings and wrapped them around herself, closing her eyes as both wings and tail receded into her body. Her arms and legs became less, her hands and feet softened from hardened scale to soft flesh, and the fire which warmed her belly shrank into mere sparks, and then vanished completely. Dragon’s fire had no place inside a human’s body.

Her necklace hung around her neck again, now glowing brighter than ever before, the spell causing it to levitate all on its own. It tugged her forth, compelling her to go to him, and she did so with much trepidation, for she had revealed herself, but he had still his mask to hide.

His jaw lowered as she drew nearer and nearer. He reached out to touch the crescent stone on the chain which forced them close, but she grabbed it before he could, trapping it between her palms, causing his cool demeanor to crack at the suddenness of her hand.

The magic died away, and it fell into her hands completely. She sighed.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “It is a habit.”

Very slowly, she opened her hands and showed to him the precious stone, for it was not really a stone. El Zorro bent over slightly—he was very tall—and gently took it from her, careful not to pull her forth more than it had already done so itself, to examine.

He met her eye, and asked in a gentle manner, “Who are you? Why have you come here today, señorita? Without escort nor aid?”

If he was to get any truthful answers out of her, he would have to be truthful in turn.

“I will tell you all on the condition you remove your mask, Señor Zorro.”

He laughed, handing the crescent back to her and placing a hand over his heart in mocking astonishment as he stood to his full height. “I say, what boldness! Surely you can tell, señorita, how unreasonable your request is. Had you a mask of your own, I would consider, but you do not. You can offer me nothing of equal value in exchange.”

She smiled placidly. She would have to be as cunning as he in order to convince him to concede.

“True, I have no mask to remove. But I _do_ have magic—” she indicated to her necklace, “which has led me to your part of the forest, good sir. Magic which has beckoned me before you as you have seen just now. Mama enchanted it to bring me to where my father is, for it is he whom I seek, and the spell will die once I am in his presence, for it will have run its course.

“Oh!” she interpolated, holding up her necklace to him, “It appears it already has.”

El Zorro showed no signs of being at all affected by her speech, which, in actuality, offended her a little. But when he spoke, she could tell he was very much shaken by this revelation, and she knew she had won their battle of words.

“Suppose that magic spell of yours is wrong?” he asked.

She feigned an offended scoff, which was not so far from the truth. “But it can’t be! Magic may be used in a wrong way, but it is never _wrong_.” She presented to him the stone which was not a stone. “This is a piece of the egg from which I hatched, created during the one and only encounter my mother ever had with my father. And if you are as intelligent as you are cunning, then you will have no doubt as to who I am, nor why I ask what I do of you.”

He considered this with a grave nod. Then, he turned his attentions elsewhere, grabbing one of the torches off the walls of the cavern, and gave it to her. She took it with a steady hand.

“Hold it up, a little nearer to our faces,” he said, “but not so close.”

Breath swelled up in her chest as El Zorro removed his hat, and then his mask.

He had a very handsome face, with a small moustache, a strong jaw, and quite the warm, but roguish smile. His hair was perfectly in place and appeared to be black, or even a dark shade of brown, very much like hers. She could see in his eyes the same glimmer of something bright Mama always thought wonderful, suggesting he, too, enjoyed a little merrymaking at the expense of other, less savory people.

She could return home to Mama triumphant, perhaps even bring him with her. Perhaps they could even be a proper family.

The tears pricking at her eyes threatened very soon to roll down her cheeks, not helped when he wiggled his eyebrows at her in effort to make her laugh, still with that cheeky smile on his face.

But, of course, she did laugh, and so did he. And the tears which only moments ago were of overwhelming joy became less overwhelming and more joyous as they fell from her eyes. He removed a glove to catch them with a warm finger when he noticed she was crying, and she smiled against his hand. He took the torch from her and put it back on the wall.

“What does she call you, your mother?” he asked when their mirth finally subsided, kneeling on one knee before her and letting his hands slide from her face to her arms. “What is your name, mija?”

She sniffled. “Lily. My name is Lily.”

And his smile widened, and he gave her arms a firm, loving squeeze.

“Hola, Lily,” he said, “I’m Dad.”


End file.
